LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, 

COPYRIGHT OFFICE. 

No registration of title of this book 
as a preliminary to coRyrig^^.P^?tec- 
tion has been found. 



Forwarded to Order Division 

(Apr. 5, 1901-5,000.) 



(Date) 



-XT. 




COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



OCTOBER LEAVES 

HENRY A. MILES, D.D. 

4 



BOSTON 

Geo. H. Ellis, 141 Franklin Street 
1898 



59472 



OCT 11 1900 

C(vpy right ^wtry 



SECCNO COPY. 
O^DE*^ DIVISION, 



GEO. H, BLLIS, PRINTER, 141 FRANKLIN STREET, BOSTON 



ASSOCIATED WITH THE NAME OF 

JOHN DAVIS LONG 

AN HONORED PARISHIONER AND A CHERISHED 
FRIEND 



PREFACE. 



From a pile of manuscripts, consisting of 
addresses, lectures, homilies, and articles for 
reviews and journals, the following selections are 
severed from conventional adaptations to occa- 
sions. They have been written in a professional 
life of more than sixty years, pursued with un- 
ambitious aims, with no zeal for sectarian exten- 
sion, and with few interruptions by annoying 
superficial activities. An old age of leisure and 
good health has given prolonged opportunities 
for studies in sacred letters, which have always 
been my occupation and delight. As I am now 
far advanced in the October of my life, I may 
call these few pages a little bunch of October 
Leaves. 

H. A. M. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

Steps TOWARDS the Highest ii 

The Name above Every Name 23 

The Greatest Artist 33 

Faces that Inspire 43 

Jesus and the Reporters 53 

The Crucifixion 65 

The Bodily Resurrection of Jesus 75 

How to make Friends 87 

Some of the Laws of Memory 99 

Human Love for God 109 



STEPS TOWARDS THE 
HIGHEST 



STEPS TOWARDS THE HIGHEST. 



Some seem to think that the existence of God 
should be proved by a soUd chain of argument, 
and should be the product of a demonstration as 
certain as the amount of five added to five. 

Who does not know this is far from being the 
fact? There is no such thing as a scientific 
proof. Philosophers have long searched for it. 
Not that they needed it. Most of them had a 
conviction to which demonstration could add no 
strength. They have been fascinated by the 
problem. Its solution would immortalize them. 
It would be a triumph, like the quadrature of the 
circle or the invention of perpetual motion. No 
one has succeeded. Thence the history of moral 
philosophy all through the ages shows the wrecks 
of baffled attempts. 

The cause is very obvious. Our science, our 
logic, — such good things in their place, — are poor 
things when applied to God. A mere atom called 
man on one side, and an infinite being on the 
other side, can at first be described only by con- 



12 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



trasts. Who would set out to measure by a ten- 
foot pole the distance from us of the planet Nep- 
tune, remote many millions of miles? There 
must be some approximation of the measurer to 
the measured. Our conditions of thought, our 
comparisons, our discriminations, our intellectual 
processes, all break down when transferred to a 
subject so much above their reach. 

Evidently, God did not intend that he should 
be cognizable by such instruments. He is out- 
side, beyond, and above them all. Were he not, 
he would not be an infinite object. Some one, 
who has a narrow, sharp mind, says he cannot 
prove that there is a God. I am glad he cannot. 
I should not wish to believe in a God whose di- 
mensions were not too large for him to grasp. 

Is all this the same as saying that God cannot 
be known at all ? Far otherwise. It is only ad- 
mitting that capacities fitted for the finite are 
misplaced when turned to the infinite. A mi- 
croscope is serviceable to examine the wing of a 
fly ; but, if you w^ould trace the belts of Saturn, you 
must change the instrument. When you come to 
deal with the vision of God, you must change 
your instrument. That part of your nature which 



STEPS TOWARDS THE HIGHEST 



13 



relates to the bounded is not here available. 
You must turn to that other part of your nature 
which has relations with the boundless. 

You need not go far to find it. In reading the 
old arguments to prove the existence of God, it 
seems as if it were thought there was need of 
something recondite, far-fetched, requiring to be 
stated with a precision and strength never before 
reached. Men have looked through the human 
mind and through all history, to make the dis- 
covery. But there is no necessity to ask, ¥/ho 
shall ascend up to heaven — that is, to bring God 
down — or who shall descend into the deep — 
that is, to bring God up ? for, lo ! he is in thine 
own heart. He that loveth not knoweth not 
God." This is more than a Scriptural text. It 
is a psychological fact. 

We must not take that word love " in any literal 
or narrow way. It is the misfortune of all lan- 
guage that expressions often lose the breadth of 
meaning that filled their primal utterance. They 
contract a shrivelled sense. It is not merely our 
affections that are here referred to, but our aspira- 
tions, our tastes, our imaginings, our longings, 
our conceptions of the pure, the perfect, the 



14 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



beautiful, the eternal. In other words, it is our 
entire emotional and aesthetic equipment. Who 
can give an exhaustive description even of such 
a being as 77iaii if all this be left out ? 

Here is the fourth story of a nature which, be- 
ginning in bodily sensations, rising up to instinct, 
ascending then to intellect, finds its completion 
in a forefeeling of something grander and di- 
viner. It is in the nature of every thoughtful 
man. It is the inspiration of all true poetry, the 
life breath of all high art, the spur to progress, 
the rebound against hard and coarse realities, 
the tastes that cherish supernal purity, the win- 
dows through which we look into the ideal, 
the wings on which we soar in the visions of 
hope, the impulse to all real nobleness and 
grandeur. Here also is the topmost attainable 
knowledge. It is not logic, but soul. 

We are so accustomed to speak of knowledge 
as coming to us through intellectual processes 
that we are not quick to see that it can come to 
us in any other way. An age which exalts books, 
schools, colleges, statistics, science, and which 
trains the eye, the hand, the memory, the com- 
mon sense, is prone to distrust everything that 



STEPS TOWARDS THE HIGHEST 1 5 

rests only on what we poorly call the feeling. 
And yet feelings using the word as denoting what 
is large and upward-tending — does it not consti- 
tute a part of our spiritual antennae, and give a 
certainty beyond formal proof ? 

You will not be slow to recognize this if you 
remember in how many cases knowledge comes 
through love. The sculptor, the painter, the 
musician, may easily know the implements, the 
methods, the aims of his art ; but it is love alone 
which discloses to him its prof oundest mysteries^ 
and makes him sure that nothing else is worth 
living for. The same fact is to some degree 
true in other professions where feeling leads to 
the deepest knowledge. 

You really know your child only after you have 
loved it. The record in the old family Bible or 
in the ofhce of the municipal clerk, even if it be 
certified under oath by a dozen witnesses, cannot 
bring the certainty you will have when the young 
life has twined around your heart-strings. What 
else but love has made it yours ? 

If you look beyond a natural instinct, how do 
you know the friend who, of all human beings, 
has come closest to your heart? Suppose a 



i6 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



tricky logician should try to show you that you 
have no scientific certainty of your friend's 
existence, telling you that all your evidence on 
that point is not trustworthy, that your eyes and 
ears deceive you, that you may have been in a 
dream in all your friendly intercourse with him, 
and so casting a cloud of doubt over your mind, 
as if you had been a victim of a lifelong delu- 
sion. 

You would have a short answer to all that. 
You would say : As I do not find, so I shall not 
lose my friend by a syllogism. I cannot demon- 
strate that he is not a phantom. But that failure 
is nothing to me. I know him by something 
which none of your talk disturbs. He lives in 
my soul. He is intertwined with every fibre of 
my heart. Where is there anything which is 
more truly a reality ? 

Steps towards God ? I find them in the inde- 
structible sense of right ; in the conviction that 
a moral purpose runs through the afi'airs of this 
world ; in the triumphant faith that there is here 
on earth a progressive order tending to human 
perfectibility ; in the unconquerable trust that all 
seeming inequalities vrill one day be readjusted ; 



STEPS TOWARDS THE HIGHEST 1 7 

in every conception of what is perfect in good- 
ness and beauty ; in every filial hope clinging to 
a father's arm. God is the response to all that 
is highest and divinest in my nature. 

The heart that is never swept by these pro- 
found emotions may not admit the existence of 
God. I think it a compliment to the grandeur 
of that idea. It must be a God after a small 
pattern whom such a soul can comprehend. 
Standing on the shore of some petty inland 
creek, one may have a poor conception of the 
vast extent and sublime power of the ocean, and 
may even deny that there is such a thing. Is it 
through insufficiency of proof, or is it through 
the position of the observer ? Climb up to the 
top of some projecting headland, and see what 
you think then. Meanwhile the ocean is there^ 
majestic, boundless, irresistible, in spite of all 
your doubts. 

But it must not be forgotten that oftentimes we 
have no choice, and no easy change of our posi- 
tion. We must act our part where our lot 
is cast by birth, early impressions, education, 
companionship, and the successes and failures of 
life. He who has placed us here knows what 



i8 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



influence upon us visible and palpable objects 
most necessarily have. Are we sure that in the 
case of the young this is too dominating in a 
world where they make their start, and have their 
first duties to perform ? 

They do not at birth come in possession even 
of all their bodily possibilities. Some of these 
are of later growth, — the use of their eyes, feet, 
hands, teeth, their healthful digestion, their manly 
strength. It is not strange that there should be 
a like tardy development of other faculties, — 
their thoughtfulness, comparison, generalization, 
reason, their love of right, truth, beauty, unself- 
ishness, their reverence for what is enduring and 
eternal. 

Let it be added that, when they attain to a 
maturer judgment, many come under the in- 
fluence of superstitious and revolting represen- 
tations of God. It is more praiseworthy to 
disbelieve in him than to believe in such creeds. 
As Plutarch writes in his essay on Indiscreet 
Devotion,'' " Better say such a person did not 
exist than to affirm he was a hard, cruel tyrant.'' 

Why should we underrate the religious value 
of a doubt if it be held with humility, and keeps 



STEPS TOWARDS THE HIGHEST 1 9 

the mind open and alert to inquiry ? We need a 
more tender forbearance. It is a profound re- 
mark of Bishop Butler, — that it is not so much 
our being free from doubt as our manner of treat- 
ing it that gives scope to a moral discipline.'' 
It would have been easy for God to compel our 
assent." But on this point we do not live under 
a law of force. We are invited by gentle per- 
suasion. So much is our freedom respected. 
This is godlike. It wins our attention, encour- 
ages patiently and tenderly our aspirations, and 
even asks the co-operation of our affections and 
will. And what, on the whole, do we find the 
result to be ? Are there many who die as abso- 
lute atheists ? 



THE NAME ABOVE EVERY 
NAME 



THE NAME ABOVE EVERY NAME. 



It is noteworthy that, after nearly two thou- 
sand years of controversy, we find the best 
answer to this question was given by the first 
Christian writer, — first in time as well as ability. 
He had broad views. He appears to have cast 
his eye over the course of history. He went 
back to the creation ; and, as he saw in Adam the 
progenitor of human beings, so he saw in the 
second Adam the progenitor of a renewed spirit- 
ual race. 

And what does he say ? If he thought of any 
thing more important to affirm, he probably would 
have stated that. The needs of the times, the 
needs of his own perilous condition, the needs 
of his hopes for the success of his cause, 
required the most distinctive title he could 
announce. He defines Jesus to be " a quicken- 
ing spirit,^' — not a philosopher, not an orator, 
not a reasoner, not a discoverer of new truths, 
not the inventor of new arts, not a warrior, not 
a conqueror, not the head of an ecclesiastical 
hierarchy. 



24 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



Because he was not an example of any of 
these types of distinction, we are apt to under- 
rate the greatness that was his. A few poor 
parallels may show what that greatness was, 
and show it better than any argument. If they 
be taken from common life, they may make us 
feel in what way our nature is most deeply 
moved, and may illustrate this influence in a 
world-wide agency. 

There comes into your town a man who has 
brought a new life there. He has broken the ice 
which had frozen everything. He has awakened 
fresh social sympathies, led many unconsciously 
to catch his tastes, aims, and habits ; and, while 
hearts have been drawn to him, they have been 
drawn to one another. In time he has lifted up 
your whole neighborhood. You find the springs 
of its progress all centring in him. 

Who is he that has done this ? He has not 
the wealth, the social position, the learning, the 
eloquence, which others possess. He makes no 
noise in the world, aims at no immediate start- 
ling effects, follows his course in a self-restrained 
way ; but, somehow, an influence goes out from 
him, beginning at first with his nearest associ- 



THE NAME ABOVE EVERY NAME 25 

ates, working silently to outer circles, until he 
becomes the magnet of his little world. What is 
it that achieves this ? 

It is not fully satisfying to hear the answers 
to this question. Some quote the words he has 
spoken, and yet similar words have been uttered 
without effect a hundred times before. Some 
point to the sincerity of his character, but many 
a mistaken and inefficient man has been equally 
sincere. Some refer to the moral beauty and 
goodness of his life, forgetting how often these 
have had no commanding powers. The sources 
of personal influence are often obscure. No two 
writers would agree in describing them. But, 
beyond all analysis and argument, one fact is 
clear : the man referred to has been " a quick- 
ening spirit.'' These are very simple words, 
but they have a deep meaning. And what ac- 
counts better for what he has done ? 

An inspiring power is seen in another case. 
The school-teacher who is most successful does 
not necessarily have the profoundest knowledge, 
does not show the greatest number of diplomas, 
does not rule his classes with the exactness of 
military drill, does not attract the widest outside 



26 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



attention. It is the instructor of whom it may 
be said that his kingdom is in the hearts of his 
pupils. 

You would smile at one who should ascribe his 
influence to any external cause, — such as bodily 
size and strength, or descent in an eminent ped- 
igree, or the name of the school, or the plan of 
the school-house, or the peculiar methods he 
employs, or any supposed fabulous arts. We 
must go back of all these things. We must 
recognize influences occult, but deep and cer- 
tain, awakening ambition, elevating aspirations, 
giving life and earnestness to all processes of 
learning. Do we not find the sum.mit of success 
where there is a quickening spirit " ? 

Then, again, let us look to the mother in 
the midst of her household. Perhaps it seems 
strange that she should have such a formative 
influence. She has no outward constraint, like 
that of the father of the family, he peremptory 
and she gentle, he hurrying and she quiet, he 
anxious to have certain ends accomplished and 
she more thoughtful of the temper in which 
they should be undertaken, he filling his home 
with anxious cares and she diffusing a serene 
atmosphere in every room and in every heart. 



THE NAME ABOVE EVERY NAME 27 

Which does the most for the souls of the 
home circle ? Whose spirit best wins affection ? 
To whom do children most freely repair for sym- 
pathy and counsel ? Whom are they most care- 
ful not to displease ? Whose image stands be- 
fore them as the guiding star of their life, and is 
remembered with undying love ? 

We all know the answer to these questions. 
It is the parent — usually the mother, though 
not always so — who is the quickening spirit." 
If we think that he to whom these words were at 
first applied had a large endowment of feminine 
qualities, this is not disproved by his knowledge 
of the deep springs of action in our nature and 
his sublime trust in them. 

Another illustration in a lowly sphere may be 
pardoned. It is drawn from a fact in one of the 
large hospitals in Washington during the War of 
the Rebellion. Provision had been made for the 
badly wounded, and hundreds of our soldiers 
were there under surgical care for months. 
Among the nurses was one woman whom none 
of the sufferers ever forgot. 

It was no charm of youth, no personal beauty, 
no rich attire, no medical science or skill, that 



28 OCTOBER LEAVES 

gave her prominence. Her singular influence, 
some might say, might have been in part ex- 
plained if she had been connected with persons 
in power. But no one knew^ who she was. 
Nurses came from different Northern States ; and 
she went unheralded and unknown, one among a 
hundred. She may have been born in a stable, 
and had not where to lay her head. 

But she had not long been there before her 
superior influence was felt. It w^as not so much 
w^hat she said and did as her supreme power 
to touch human hearts. There was something 
radiating from her looks, from the tone of her 
voice, the outpouring of her soul, which won the 
love of every one there. The convalescent drew^ 
health from her presence, the dying fixed on her 
their closing eye. She became the angel of the 
hospital, the Messiah of that little world. 

Who cannot interpret all this by something in 
his own observation ? While the influence of the 
good man who comes into your town ceases, to a 
considerable but not entire degree, with the gen- 
eration in w^hich he lives, and the teacher's 
uplifting power rarely extends beyond his school, 
and the mother's formative care is confined 



THE NAME ABOVE EVERY NAME 29 

chiefly to her family, and the angel of the hos- 
pital was little known beyond its wards, One 
there was whose field was the v/orld. But all 
worked on essentially the same principles, with a 
proof of like success. His name is above every 
name. 

And how marked has been the result with him 
last named ! We look in vain for any vestiges of 
those great heroes, Alexander and Caesar, who 
had the v/hole world at their beck. As to the 
old philosophers, we ask, Where are their famous 
schools, and who counts up their crowds of fol- 
lowers ? But he who worked not with force or 
logic or arguments, whose dominion was in the 
heart, in the duties, hopes, and trusts which 
belong to the human soul everywhere, in all 
countries, in all time, — his empire has been for- 
ever growing, is now a thousand-fold greater 
than in the first centuries of our era, and will 
grow the more men understand what is deepest 
in their nature. 

Compared with the grandeur and sublimity of 
his aim, how ridiculous are all our poor strifes 
about orthodoxy or heterodoxy, trinity or unity, 
much or little water in baptism, standing or 



30 OCTOBER LEAVES 

kneeling in worship, printed litanies or extempo- 
rary prayers, the duration of future punishment, 
the possibility of post-7?iorte7n repentance ! Can 
anything be more childish and contemptible ? 

And yet even these may be regarded with 
some softening pity. We must remember that 
fighting has been almost the natural state of the 
childhood of our race. As in the case of pug- 
nacity in boyhood, it may serve to wake up 
dormant energies and give- needed strength to 
character. We do not know what might have 
taken the place of contentions about religion if 
these had been put away. Something worse, 
perhaps. Certainly, they are not the most dis- 
honorable to our nature ; and they are probably 
less than one-tenth of the many causes of blood- 
shed. 



THE GREATEST ARTIST 



I 



THE GREATEST ARTIST. 



The impression of anything unfitting in this 
title may be reheved by remembering that re- 
nowned sculptors and painters have called the 
parables of the Gospels .models of the divinest 
art and beauty. Working not on marble or can- 
vas, but on words, how their author must have 
loved them, when he finished them with marvel- 
lous delicacy and power 1 

Let us consider the conditions of his time. It 
was more than a thousand years before the art 
of printing. Writing was not common. It is 
not known that Jesus wrote a single manuscript. 
His hearers were not habitual readers. It was 
hence needful that everything should be put in a 
form easy to be understood at a glance. A story 
met the want. 

But the story must be short, condensed into 
two or three sentences. Its costume must be 
taken from the then common life, so as to call 
for no explanation. It must be aside from the 
tales in everybody's mouth. It must make a 



34 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



winged appeal to the curiosity, the imagination, 
the affections, in order to obtain a lodgment in 
the mind. 

No doubt the artist saw all these conditions. 
Had he lived a few hundred years earlier, in the 
time of Socrates and Plato, he would probably 
have followed their fashion, and taught by dia- 
logues, developing the truth by the sharp use of 
question and answer. Had the sphere of his 
labors been in Rome, he doubtless would have 
written treatises and dissertations, like Cicero 
and his contemporaries. Had he widely trav- 
elled, he might have sent out Epistles after the 
example of Saint Paul and Seneca. In our day 
he would have published a book. 

A few of his most docile followers he sent out 
to repeat to others the words they had heard 
from his lips. Of course, they were illiterate 
men, and were filled with the obstinate preju- 
dices of their race. But they were the only 
helpers he had. His occasional expressions of 
impatience with them — " Have I been so long 
with you, and yet hast thou not knov/n me ? " 
''Are ye even yet without understanding.^" 
How long must I be with you, and bear with 



THE GREATEST ARTIST 



35 



you ? " — are so natural and human that they 
bring him nearer to us. 

All this shows how his choice of methods was 
restricted. With the people whom he sought to 
teach there was but one thing he could do. 
With prompt decision and marked good sense he 
addressed himself to that, set about nothing else, 
made himself here a master artist of whose word- 
pictures the whole world has taken note. 

We cannot expect to find here a great scene 
like a fresco that covers the whole side of a 
chapel, or a broad-spreading canvas to adorn the 
walls of a cathedral. We have only a miniature^ 
as we may say. Often there is but one figure in 
it, as in the picture of the man building his 
house on the sand, or in that of the sower, or in 
that of the lost sheep, or in that of the unjust 
steward. Again we find only two figures, as in 
the sketch of the publican and the Pharisee, or 
in that of the rich man and the beggar. Where 
there are more figures, they are usually gathered 
into groups, as in that of the wise and foolish 
virgins, of the laborers in the vineyard, and of the 
prodigal son. 

In every case all is brought into a small com- 



36 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



pass, where the outline, perspective, and coloring 
must be carefully studied. Little will be learned 
by the hasty glance given to whole yards of can- 
vas. 

Who has not noticed how skilfully little side 
facts are introduced, though not necessary for 
the substance of the story, and yet essential for 
its picturesque effect ? Nothing will so clearly 
set this before us as an example. Let us take 
the parable of the lost sheep. 

A mere matter-of-fact relater would have said, 
*'the shepherd left his flock in order to find one 
that had wandered, and found it and brought it 
back.^' That was the bare event. But does it 
make a picture? Nothing of the kind. 

Now what is it in the hands of the great 
artist ? The whole scene is illuminated before 
our eyes. We seem to see how naturally the 
shepherd thinks of the lost one more than of all 
the flock beside, how the others are left in the 
wilderness, how he searches round the rocks and 
up the mountain-sides, how he never gives up, 
but persists until he finds the one that has 
strayed, how he lovingly lays it on his shoulders, 
how he returns vvith a quick step, and gladly 



THE GREATEST ARTIST 



37 



invites his friends to share his joy, how he calls 
this lost one ^^my'' sheep, as if his whole heart 
was centred on this alone. 

Here is the picture. Who can doubt that all 
these accessories were put in so as to make it 
beautiful ? Did it not please his eye, as it has 
pleased the eye of the whole world ? Can it fail 
to please us if we will carefully study this little 
gem ? Of course, only one or two brief touches 
are introduced by way of finish. The size of 
the painting admitted no more. But they are 
the touches of a master-hand. They give life to 
the scene, and make us feel that the Good 
Shepherd of all souls loves us, though we have 
wandered, seeks us when we are lost on the dark 
mountain, would take us tenderly in his arms, 
will still call us his sheep, and bring us back to 
the one fold. Was it not a great loving heart 
that could paint like this ? 

There are many other word-pictures of this 
divine artist, in which we may see the same 
thing here noticed, — the insertion of something 
not exactly needful for the story, but heightening 
the pictorial effect. If they pleased his taste, did 
he not know that they would please our taste, and 



3§ 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



bring us nearer to that dear Soul of whom we 
have yet so much to learn ? 

It is because these parables are so lifelike 
that they have arrested the attention of unnum- 
bered sculptors and painters. It seems an easier 
thing to make speaking groups, if only they copy 
him who was the first to outline them. The old 
churches and galleries of Europe are filled with 
imitations. Put together, they would make a 
mountain-pile. But not one of the myriads of 
artists has left a work which has so much en- 
tranced the world as that struck out by the 
Nazarene limner. 

Did he dream how many painters would bend 
year after year over the scenes he portrayed ? 
Dream of it ? No such thought could have 
entered his mind. He threw his sketches off in 
an instant, on the spur of the occasion, and with 
a few touches made a group startling and im- 
perishable forever. Did this exhaust his power ? 

A story is told of a president of a New 
England college, Dr. Wayland, who, talking with 
a student, heard him say that he did not think 
there was any special merit in the gospel para- 



THE GREATEST ARTIST 



39 



bles, and he believed that just as good might be 
made now, and even by himself. With gentle- 
ness and kindness the lad was asked to try his 
hand at the work, and to bring the result of his 
attempts. After writing many specimens, pol- 
ishing and refining them, he read them to the 
president, who gave a few criticisms, and did 
not omit some encouraging words. But the 
parables were never known outside of that 
reading. 

How the original word-pictures have endured ! 
Every generation has its brood of favorite artists, 
but in a few centuries their names are forgotten. 
The most renowned living masters of song have 
their little day. How many of them will be read 
by the great-grandchildren of their contempo- 
raries } Will the world ever let die the sketches 
of the good Samaritan and the prodigal son ? 

What has given them such longevity? It is 
their truth to nature, — human nature, the work- 
ings of its commonest but deepest elements, 
your heart and my heart, the heart not of any 
one tribe or people or age, but the heart of man 
as man, all the world over, and in all coming 



40 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



time. How this great Soul loved the natural, 
and found his immortality in the grasp of nature ! 
His first hearers did not understand him. They 
were eager for the unnatural, and supernatural. 
When we come closer to the heart of nature, we 
shall come closer to the heart of this artist. 



FACES THAT INSPIRE 



FACES THAT INSPIRE. 



Perhaps you have now and then met one of 
whom you have felt sure, by a certain refine- 
ment of features, by a clear and deep eye, by a 
calm, thoughtful self-poise, by a gentleness of 
mien, and a sweet, penetrating voice that here 
has been communion with divine things. You 
see it at a glance. It is an instantaneous flash. 
It carries profoundest conviction. 

Such persons may have no official prefix to 
their names, neither honorable nor reverend. 
They may be the plain John or Mary of your 
acquaintance. Their whole life may have passed 
in obscurity. They may be clad in ordinary and 
quite unfashionable garments. They may live 
in no abodes of luxury. Their dwellings may be 
humble and cheaply furnished, perhaps scantily 
supplied with the common necessities. 

But you do not notice these things. You 
notice only one thing. It is the face you have 
there seen. You cannot forget it. A picture by 



44 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



Raphael or Fra Angelico, a whole life history, an 
unwritten but touching poem, seems reflected as 
in a mirror ; and you feel that it has done you 
good. You would like to get a glimpse of it 
again. 

As you look upon the past, you may recall 
such a face known years and years ago, so 
deep was its impress. It may have been that of 
some sweet companion of your childhood, taken 
up to a home for which it was early prepared. 
It may have been that of a departed sister or 
brother, whose last look told you of a heaven of 
which you did not doubt then, if you have ques- 
tioned about it since. It may have been that of 
a nurse or servant who attended you in youth, 
whose simple and hearty faith gave a look you 
can never forget to your dying hour. It may 
have been that of a common laboring man, or of 
a lone woman struggling to bear up under an 
impoverished lot. Best of all, it may have been 
that of your mother whose prayer at your bed- 
side opened to you the holiest vision you have 
ever had. 

Whoever they were and however seen, you felt 
sure that they have solved some of life's mys- 



FACES THAT INSPIRE 



45 



teries ; and a light not born here has encom- 
passed their person. 

We will not call this a mere human revelation. 
There is something divine in it. It makes 
credible the confession of Michel Angelo, who 
said, in one of his sonnets, There is power in 
some faces to lift me at once to heaven." The 
original is much stronger, — Al del me spro?iar /" 
Why should it not be so } Consider in what 
various ways God reveals himself to us. His 
glory he has impressed on the sun, his grandeur 
on the mountain, his sublimity on the ocean, his 
beauty on the landscape, his loveliness on the 
flower. Is there a better mirror and image of 
him than the human soul ? And, when that rays 
out purity, peace, and blessedness, why should 
it not seem that God himself was there, and 
looked out upon us through the eye, which is a 
window of the soul ? Such a face is better than 
any spoken words. It is itself a gospel. 

Perhaps no one has an adequate idea of its 
capabilities to reveal heavenly things. Alas ! in 
our civilization we have many illustrations of its 
power to reveal other things, — sometimes a 
bloated sensualism, sometimes a sharp eagerness 



46 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



for selfish gain, sometimes an intense look out- 
ward and rarely inward, sometimes a hard in- 
difference which has drawn a curl on the lip, 
sometimes a smirk of self-conceit, sometimes a 
lack of that reverence which comes only from 
communion with what is higher than ourselves. 
The sure 'sign of all this is there. Not Cain 
alone had the outward mark of what is within. 

Do you not suppose that, if an exact likeness 
of the prominent men of our times was trans- 
mitted to future ages, those portraits, a thousand 
years hence, would tell the whole story of our 
prevailing type of character ? What would then 
be thought of it ? Perhaps those beholders 
would hardly recognize us as belonging to the 
same race as themselves. So much more self- 
forgetful, more reverential, more noble, human 
countenances may become. 

Those living then may pity us whose lot fell, 
as they may think, in a dark and semi-barbarous 
age, — an age of money-making, of railroads, of 
machinery, of selfish struggles and social rivalries. 
How they might comment on our looks ! See 
that intense eagerness and restless craving of 
the nineteenth-century men ! They were, indeed, 



FACES THAT INSPIRE 



47 



somewhat above an animal condition ; but how 
poorly they must have known what it is to be 
me7i^ and to have the beauty and the joy of true 
men ! All this they might say. 

What is here supposed as a fact of a few 
thousand years to come seems to be rendered 
extremely probable by the fact of a few thousand 
years ago. If we had exact portraits of the men 
of the time of Homer, David, Solomon, and the 
old Sabines and Latins who founded Rome, it 
is not likely they would seem to belong to our 
human race. Here and there might be one who 
would look like a civilized and lovable being, 
just as among us there may be some who really 
belong to a future type. But, as to the majority, 
you could not call them your brethren. You 
would mark their low foreheads, their prominent 
jaws, their gluttonous lips, their animalized and 
brutal looks. 

Why should not men become refined and ele- 
vated as much in the future as they have ad- 
vanced in the past? We have something more 
than conjecture to aid us. You know that busts 
of the old emperors are preserved in the Capitol 
in Rome. They were the leading men two 



48 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



thousand years ago. No doubt, the artists of 
that day^softened down and ideahzed as much as 
they could, as all artists do, the lineaments of 
distinguished persons. But, as you walk through 
that gallery, you cannot help marking the gross, 
brutal features. With the exception of Marcus 
Aurelius, Antoninus Pius, and Julian, so called 
Apostate, whose noble features seem to discredit 
much ecclesiastical abuse, the most of them are 
repulsive through the predominance of animal- 
ism. 

Thus through the human countenance the 
world may some time receive a higher and higher 
view of what has enduring reahty and priceless 
worth. This is the power of that vision. Every- 
thing yields to it. Our position, our office, our 
wealth, sink down in its presence. There is no 
sermon, no book, no picture, no reproof of a 
friend, that touches us like that look. It tells 
us where has been found beneath all losses a 
greater gain, beneath all changes an undisturbed 
rest, beneath all sorrow a peace that the outside 
w^orld knoweth not of. 

I can therefore credit the story told of one 
who, walking the streets of a great city, reflecting 



FACES THAT INSPIRE 



49 



upon the troubles that had come thick upon him, 
desponding, hopeless, not knowing where he 
should turn or what he should do, and almost 
tempted to suicide, at length espied before him 
on the sidewalk, and approaching, a face which 
made him feel as if God was there looking upon 
him, grieving at his unrest, and telling him where 
peace and trust might be found. 

A voice from heaven could not have touched 
him more. It filled him with a sense of his own 
emptiness. It inspired him with courage. It 
opened a new path. It proved a crisis in his 
life ; and, as long as he lived, he thanked God for 
the lesson there taught. 

And you, dear precious souls, whose counte- 
nances bear the winning expression here named, 
who have looked down beneath the shows and 
found the real substance, who see in obscurity, 
in want, in suffering, the school appointed for 
you, and have come out from every cloud into 
the bright sunlight of trust, — no, no, do not think 
you are not serving God in your hard lot. 

Perhaps you are serving him in the best pos- 
sible way. Your serene trust will shine out from 
your person. You cannot help it. You need 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



not think of it. It will speak and plead and win 
of itself. It will give its beauty to every line of 
your face, and its echo to every tone of your 
voice. And who may do more of the Father's 
will than you in the course of your life ? 



JESUS AND THE REPORTERS 



JESUS AND THE REPORTERS. 



In rereading the other day Canon Farrar's 
Life of Christ,'' the following question he pro- 
poses seemed eminently just. He asks, " Is it 
not allowable to make a distinction between facts 
and the mere conjectures and inferences of the 
spectators ? '' 

In former times, when men beheved in plenary 
inspiration and the infallibility of every word of 
Scripture, such discrimination was heresy. This 
was the shadow of that monstrous error. But 
many now think that the ignorance and prepos- 
sessions of the narrators unduly colored their 
record. If Jesus were to read the existing ac- 
counts of his life, would he not exclaim : I did 
not mean what is here stated to be my view. 
These writers were filled with their former ideas. 
They were honest and in the main accurate, but 
their full comprehension of my statements was 
simply impossible ; and how unjust to me to see 
no difference between their mind and my mind ! '' 

An example may illustrate this injustice. 



54 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



Every one then believed that sickness, leprosy, 
epileptic fits, deafness, blindness, in short, bodily 
sufferings of all kinds, were the work of evil 
spirits. This opinion was acquired in Babylon. 
The Jews brought it with them on their return 
from the captivity. It rested on no evidence. 
It was a pagan hypothesis. They were predis- 
posed to see indications of such infernal action. 
They recognized proofs where proofs were purely 
imaginary. Their superstition would be of small 
interest to us if it did not implicate Jesus in their 
delusions. 

Of course, we have no infallible mark distin- 
guishing between their view and his view. The 
record mixes both. But a few significant hints 
can be put together. There may have been 
great v/isdom in leaving the case to be settled by 
time. There is a vis medicatrix naturcE for errors 
as well as for diseases, and no change of creeds 
is worth much if it be not the fruit of maturer 
mental growth. 

We have commonly a wholly unauthorized 
opinion as to the frequency of the reported 
healings. We are apt to think that, vrherever the 
first disciples and their Master went, they were 



JESUS AND THE REPORTERS 55 

occupied in relieving sickness and infirmities. 
This mistake arises in part from our having four 
separate biographies, which often repeat each 
other. We lump them together as one history. 
It is only a careful reader who sees how few the 
distinct cases are. The failures are not named. 
The insistency in detailing successes implies a 
disbelief somewhere. Is it wrong to think that a 
gently moulding mind had some influence to 
weaken the old superstitions ? 

This may seem more probable when we re- 
member how seldom that mind dwelt on these 
outward occurrences. The allusions to them, 
the importance ascribed to them, are from the 
reporters, and not from him. This fact is obvi- 
ous. Its meaning is significant. It suggests 
that he thought one thing about them, and that 
they thought another thing. 

If placing his hand upon the sick and infirm 
was only a tender act of sympathy, is it strange 
that the disciples, in their wonder and reverence, 
believed that some mysterious virtue was im- 
parted ? This was then the common belief in 
Palestine. It is still the common belief there. 
Nor there alone. Has it not survived in other 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



places ? Do none now think that the hands of a 
bishop convey a blessing transmitted from the 
apostles ? Have we not read of thousands sup- 
posed to be healed by a touch from an eccle- 
siastical or regal chief ? Until a few years was 
there not a liturgical office of healing" in the 
English Church ? In our commiseration for a 
recent and explicable error, can we not include 
those who lived two thousand years ago ? 

Our common translations of the Gospels lead 
us into error. They call that a " miracle " which 
in the original is called a "sign.'' The revised 
version continuously corrects this rendering. 
The word "miracle " has, in comparatively recent 
times, changed its meaning. Formerly denoting 
anything wonderful, we now understand by it a 
variation from the order of nature. Who will 
say that the sacred biographers had any general 
conception of an order of nature ? Everything 
to them was a sign. The imagination suggested 
what the sign meant. After thirty years they 
gave an account of their life with their Master, and 
recalled some of these signs. Is it right to call 
them miracles ? The substitution of a modern 
word having a different meaning is deceptive. 



JESUS AND THE REPORTERS 



57 



It was inevitable in the progress of Christian 
thought that even the first believers should 
after a while be lifted up to a higher level of 
ideas. The apostle John was the last of the 
Gospel writers ; and he lived, we are told, to a 
great age. If we compare his record with the 
other three biographers, and look also to his 
Epistles, we see at a glance how seldom, and 
progressively seldom, he gives account of cures 
of body or of mind. Why should he do it ? He 
was filled with other evidence. Far above any 
outward signs, he looked to the renewal of the 
heart. It was for him to say, *^ He that believeth 
on the Son of God hath the witness in himself." 

Saint Paul had a depth of conviction which did 
not need these signs. It would have been out 
of place for him to dwell upon stories of curing 
a fever or making the lame to walk. How petty 
these tales would have been to him who said, 
" Though I have all faith so that I could remove 
mountains, and have not love, I am nothing " 1 
He also found the witness within. 

They followed in the line of the Master^s 
steps. Who can fathom the depth of his sorrow 
when he said, Unless ye see signs and won- 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



ders, ye will not believe " ? Could anything be a 
more significant rebuke ? Can we doubt where 
with him was the true evidence ? 

Nor does this stand alone. Imagine the scene 
when the disciples, returning from some mission- 
ary labors, recounted their successes, adding that 
even "the spirits are subject unto us." But 
soon came not a welcome, but a reproof. " In 
this rejoice not that the spirits are subject unto 
you : but rather rejoice that your names are 
written in heaven." Why should they not re- 
joice in what was here first named, if Jesus 
believed that it was a proof of divine authority 
and of the manifest approval of God ? 

Other hints equally plain and direct may have 
fallen from his lips. Perhaps they were not 
understood or were forgotten. Do not these lift 
a name, which we all reverence, above alien and 
unworthy associations ? 

That he should be misunderstood by his con- 
temporaries who undertook to report him is 
exactly v>-hat has happened in every country, in 
every generation, in every circle, where a supe- 
rior intellect, the subject of much talk, has 
appeared among common men, — in all, perhaps 



JESUS AND THE REPORTERS 



59 



a thousand cases. The truths announced are at 
first only half comprehended, and are mixed up 
among the prepossessions of the day. Sometimes 
a bold assertion, a strange tone of the voice, an 
unusual look of the eye, a figure of speech, a 
gesture of the hand, have fired the imagination, 
and led to mistakes hke those under review. 
These peculiarities struck the senses. It was 
more easy to ascribe influence to these than to 
look deeper. 

It would be amusing to know how often noto- 
riety has been achieved by trifles. The long 
and sad consequences of the case before us 
would have been more transient if they did not 
have other causes than the mistakes of the first 
reporters. 

It is the duty of subsequent history to free the 
life of our great benefactor from its environment. 
Scores of errors about any one come more from 
what others say about him than from what he 
says of himself. We can understand Jesus only 
by eliminating him from the delusions of his 
hearers. The peculiar difiiculty in his case is 
that for ages these mistakes have been beheved 
to be as infallibly true as his own words. A 



6o 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



juster criticism will bring that great soul more 
intimately into the sphere of our consciousness 
and love. 

It would appear more reverent to that " Spirit 
of Truth which, in the long run, has guided the 
developments of Christian thought, and which has 
the promise of leading " to all truth," if there had 
not been a perpetual opposition to a further 
understanding of the Scriptures. But here 
religious organizations have worked " after their 
kind." Their office is to keep doctrinal matters 
unchanged. The largest denomination in Chris- 
tendom stands as the infallible guardian of 
ancient errors. Other great affiliations feel that 
their life-blood is found in unity of belief and 
resistance to all variation. They assemble dele- 
gates from countless local bands, that a great 
multitude, by outside show and pressure, by 
exciting harangues and contagious impulses, may 
be made to stand firm. This compulsion has of 
late been imitated by advocates for immediate 
political and reformatory action. 

We have all seen how quickly this runs into 
intolerance. Trials for heresy are its legitimate 
fruit. The legal proceedings are much the same 



JESUS AND THE REPORTERS 6 1 

as against perjurers and burglars. Penalties of 
excommunication and obloquy may for a while 
serve to keep the timid in fetters. But it is an 
offence to the freer spirit of our age ; and there 
is something abroad which, for thoughtful Bibli- 
cal criticism and for the true greatness of Jesus, 
is now eclipsing, quietly and steadily, all that 
was done in the sixteenth-century Reformation. 



THE CRUCIFIXION 



THE CRUCIFIXION. 



One of the most faithful and trusted of the 
biographers of Jesus (Mihuan, in his History 
of Christianity alluding to the crucifixion, says 
that the Roman soldiers gathered around it the 
most savage and wanton insults/' 

It must be remembered that this is what law- 
yers call an odifer dictum^ — an observation 
dropped by the way, without any pretence to a 
full review. If it be only an echo of traditional 
feeUngs, it is none the less to be regretted that it 
is not more discriminating. The facts deserve a 
careful scrutiny. 

This kind of punishment passed, during cen- 
turies, through many changes. In the long run 
there was a gradual mitigation of its severity. 

At first the naked body was impaled on a 
young tree, when its branches had been trimmed 
off and its top point had been sharpened. This 
point was thrust up through the person, entering 
the lowest part of the body. It was the execu- 
tion which required the smallest preparation, and 



66 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



was perfectly effectual. It \Yas also the most 
horrible. The arms thrown out in all directions 
could bring no relief, and awakened compassion 
for the excessive agony. 

There are repeated allusions in the Scriptures 
to this earliest mode, such as hung on a tree, the 
accursed tree. Classical phrases refer to the 
same fact, the mfelix arbor. 

The next step was to stretch out and bind the 
arms on a cross-timber, leaving the internal body 
unmutilated. Hence came the name of this pun- 
ishment, the cross. Doubtless it gave momen- 
tary relief, though it may have delayed death. 

Later a stupefying drink vras offered to the 
victim. Some kind hand reached this to Jesus. 
One wonders why anaesthetics, after this hint, 
came so slov/ly into use. Subsequently, a shelf 
was provided as a seat or a rest for the feet. 
Finally, the presence of friends was allowed. 
They were not repulsed at the crucifixion of 
Jesus. 

Is it not grateful to think that there was this 
growing tendency to compassion ? Did any one 
then say that this was ''unyoking all law'*? 
Even brutal soldiers and their more brutal lead- 



THE CRUCIFIXION 



67 



ers knew something of an evolution toward pity. 
Who needs now despair of progress anywhere ? 
The death of Jesus took place in some stage of 
this advancement, not surely in the first. But 
no one can exactly say how. 

The popular impression that he was nailed to 
the cross is wholly unauthorized. He was bound 
to it, but who can say that he was there nailed ? 
That barbarous and bloody method may have 
been common in earlier times, when there was no 
thought but to have life taken with despatch. 
There is not a word said about nails by either of 
the evangelists. The only place in the history 
where that word is found is in the interview with 
the incredulous Thomas. That theatrical pas- 
sage, found only in one Gospel, is supposed to 
be a marginal anecdote accidentally inserted into 
the canon. Biblical scholars tell us that we are by 
no means sure that we read the original Bible 
when we read that story. 

Ghastly pictures of the bleeding hands and feet 
were subsequently very common, and still are. 
They were devised to affect the imagination and 
sensibilities. After the myth of the finding of 
the cross, in the fourth century, the possession 



68 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



of one of the nails was coveted. A wonderful 
power was imputed to them. A long list might 
be made of the churches, monasteries, convents, 
cathedrals, chapels, and of superstitious old per- 
sons, who purchased at great price one of the 
nails, — in all, perhaps enough to build a house. 

Of all persons present at the crucifixion, it is 
evident who was most calm and self-possessed. 
His prayer that the cup might pass from him 
was not offered in the moment of execution, but 
in its anticipation. How true to nature ! The 
hour brings its support, but the soul shrinks at 
the forethought. There can be no just doubt 
that the words, My God, why hast thou for- 
saken me ?" were a quotation from the twenty- 
second Psalm, affirming not his distrust, but his 
unshaken reliance. He repeated only the first 
line, all perhaps he had strength to utter, with a 
view of calling to mind the whole Psalm, pecul- 
iarly applicable to himself. This brief mode of 
citation is still common with us. 

As to the degree of his sufferings, we have 
some hints of a trustworthy kind. He could not 
have received much bodily injury. If the post- 
resurrection account be true, it appears that he 



THE CRUCIFIXION 



69 



Started the day after he left the tomb — Saint Luke 
says it was the same day — for a walk of seven 
or eight miles to Emmaus. What indignities he 
had suifered were more of ridicule than of physi- 
cal maltreatment. In that age and long after- 
ward those condemned to death were regarded 
as outlaws, and were generally exposed to insult 
and outrage. 

Probably there was here but little of this 
compared with other cases. Some restraining 
influence overawed the scene. There was no 
mob violence. Even by-standers smote their 
breast with grief. Only four Roman soldiers 
took part in the transaction. A Roman cen- 
turion who was present exclaimed, Truly, this 
was a son of God." He could discern real 
greatness, while the unappreciative and cowardly 
disciples took to flight. 

Crucifixion has been named as peculiarly a 
Roman barbarity. But it is well known that it 
had been inflicted in many Eastern countries 
long before it was adopted by Rome. We need 
not go back to primitive savage times to see 
what a great advance it was upon former meth- 
ods of execution. Sometimes criminals were pre- 



70 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



cipitated from high rocky cliffs, and their broken, 
mangled bodies were left to be devoured by dogs 
and wolves. Sometimes they were cast into dens 
of wild beasts. Sometimes they were helplessly 
fastened in lone desert places, where their flesh 
was gnawed by hyenas and their eyes were 
picked out by ravens. Sometimes they were 
immured in dark and damp stone cages, amid 
serpents and vermin, until they starved. Burn- 
ing to death over a slow fire was the punishment 
often decreed for heretics. The sufferer on Cal- 
vary had a better doom under the order, decency, 
and carefully established rules characteristic of 
Roman power. 

It seems fair to remember, also, the state of 
mind generally produced by long- continued 
scenes of violence and murder. This was the 
then condition of Judea. Such times have an 
indurating effect. Life which is less secure has 
less value. It is relinquished with a bravery 
which at other times seems impossible. This is 
the merciful compensation. Every public man 
knew that he was in hourly peril. He was to 
some degree prepared for it. The victim to 
whom our thoughts now turn was entirely con- 



THE CRUCIFIXION 7 I 

scious of his precarious position. We see how 
frequently he referred to it. It was neither with 
the indifference of a Stoic nor with the sensitive- 
ness that went beyond self-command. 

There is no need of exaggerating the neces- 
sities of his condition by imputing to him the 
feelings of our day. He had the best thing for 
him and for us. It was the victory of long 
habits of self-discipline. All this takes him out 
of the theological haze of a vague, unintelligible 
demi-god ; and we see one, beloved of the Father, 
tempted in all points Uke ourselves, coming to 
our sides, and filling our hearts with his heavenly 
wisdom and divine courage. 

In the famous Florentine Gallery there is a 
painting, by Michel Angelo, of the mother of 
Jesus, standing at the cross. While the other 
women veil their heads amid their sobs and 
screams, she looks intently upon her son, with 
unblanched face and with the calmness of per- 
fect trust. The picture seems to tell us that she 
had no doubt it was all right. She had believed 
what he had said to her. It would come out 
just as he had foretold. The event was worth 
all it cost. The whole world would in time be 



72 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



blessed by it. It was woman's faith and love 
that inspired that attitude and look. And if Art 
has here rightly interpreted her, and all this was 
true of that mother's feeling, it was more noble 
than anything else ascribed to her. Perhaps it 
may suggest an inspiring lesson to us. 



THE BODILY RESURRECTION 
OF JESUS 



THE BODILY RESURRECTION OF 
JESUS. 

In reading any of the books in the vast 
Hbrary on this subject, every one must have 
wished for a dispassionate and trustworthy 
guide who had lived through the related 
scenes. 

We need some one besides the well-known 
reporters. It is evident that their minds were 
disturbed by hopes and fears. They give frag- 
mentary and incoherent accounts. The vain at- 
tempt has often been made to adjust them to an 
indubitable history. A traditional explanation 
has been formulated into creeds, but these rest 
upon the impressions of bewildered and fright- 
ened men. 

It is not a little surprising that, while we are 
so often directed to them, we are less frequently 
referred to Jesus himself. Can we have a better 
interpreter than he ? No one was more self- 
possessed. No one knew so well all that had 



76 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



taken place. No one was more free from every 
undue bias. Whose words may we trust if not 
his ? A transcript of his mind must settle all 
questions. And such a transcript we may find 
if we dismiss the old beliefs about the infalli- 
bility of a record made by men far inferior to 
him. 

Two pivotal questions are worthy of careful 
study. Does it appear that he had, before his 
crucifixion, any anticipation that he was to 
return from the tomb ? Does it appear that he 
had, after his affirmed bodily resurrection, any 
consciousness that he had died ? 

On this first point all will recall his repeated 
affirmations that his crucifixion would terminate 
his earthly career : I go to the Father, and 
ye shall see me no more." I go to Him who 
sent me." "Now I am no more with you." " I 
leave the world, and go to my Father." 

Is it easy to find language more plain and de- 
cisive ? Does it exclude the idea of any further 
life on earth ? 

These words do not stand alone. He had 
hours of the tenderest affection. The heart 
then overflow's. It will have irrepressible utter- 



THE BODILY RESURRECTION OF JESUS ^^ 

ance. Can we detect a struggle to keep any- 
thing back ? 

When he comforted his friends who were 
overwhelmed at the thought of a departure 
which they believed was final, could he have re- 
fused one hint that in a few hours he would 
meet them, victorious and rejoicing ? Might not 
the anguish of Gethsemane have been mitigated 
by the thought that, after a brief sleep, he 
would awake triumphant? When his mother 
stood at the cross, why not a word to her of the 
infinite consolation which one syllable might 
have given ? When, in his solemn prayer, he 
said, I have finished the work thou gavest me 
to do," how could he have said this if he knew 
that the crowning part of that work, according 
to the popular theology, had not then been done ? 

The moral consistency of his words and of 
his entire conduct will be obvious. If it be 
thought that he might have masked his emo- 
tions, mto what do we convert the most trans- 
parent character ever known in history ? 

It is sometimes claimed that he must have 
foreseen his bodily resurrection, as the disciples 
repeatedly declared that they had received from 



78 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



him the words that he would rise again on the 
third day." This is the chief element of con- 
tradiction in the narrative. Whom shall we be- 
lieve, him who affirmed that the cross was the 
end of earth, or those who, ''stunned and con- 
founded," as Milman says, felt that not only 
their personal safety, but the existence of the re- 
ligion, were dependent upon their leader's con- 
tinued and visible life ? 

It is no reflection upon their character, it is 
what was perhaps unavoidable, that this hint of 
a rising should later — for it was not understood 
before, was entirely an after-thought — have 
peculiar prominence with them, should subse- 
quently be often quoted, and perhaps too fre- 
quently be ascribed to Jesus, if only through 
their mortification at their own blindness. 

Every careful reader of the Scriptures knows 
that the expressions '' the third day," '' after 
three days," were of old often used loosely, like 
the word " several " with us, denoting not a spe- 
cific, but a short time. The reporters clung to 
the literal sense. The phrase ''rising from the 
dead " was imbedded in the Hebrew language 
long before the Christian era. It did not then 



THE BODILY RESURRECTION OF JESUS 79 

appear for the first time. It was not a new- 
truth, having the necessity sometimes claimed for 
it. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob rose from the 
dead ; and this was thought to be true of Moses, 
EHjah, Jeremiah, and John the Baptist. It was 
believed that some of them were seen again on 
earth. Their influence reappeared. If Jesus 
foresaw a mighty reaction of his spirit, — And I, 
if I be lifted up, vvill draw all men to me," — 
soon beginning after his disappearance, this 
may have been all that the indefinite phrase 

three days " really meant. With him it prob- 
ably had not the slightest allusion to a bodily 
reappearance. The mistake of the reporters, 
while it relieves all appearance of contradic- 
tion, is explicable, if unfounded. But how could 
they think of the legacy which, aided by the 
subsequent theory of a verbal infallibility, they 
bequeathed to the ages ? 

A few words only on the second question, — 
Did Jesus have a consciousness of having left 
the tomb ? 

Every reader of the Gospels must have noticed 
that we look in vain for even the slightest allu- 
sion to what it is supposed he had experienced. 



8o 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



Did he retain a memory of all the past ? Were 
his last mortal struggles attended by any an- 
guish ? Was the benumbing bodily function like 
falling insensibly asleep ? With the relaxation 
of the ties of flesh was there a higher spiritual 
joy? Did he at first use the old bodily facul- 
ties, or were these transfigured and made less 
earthly ? Did the thought of a new career come 
gradually or suddenly and rapturously to his 
mind ? Had he any gladness at again meeting 
his mother and all those once so dearly loved ? 

At any rate, he has not one word to say about 
the great mystery of death. Jesus before the 
crucifixion and Jesus after the crucifixion do 
not seem to be the same person. Where are the 
effusive, inspiring lessens that filled every day of 
the former period ? In the latter period we 
enter into a region of shadows. Is there any 
illuminating light reflected from the alleged ex- 
perience ? 

One thing appears very clear. Those who 
wrote the last portion had no Master to fol- 
low, no superior wisdom to guide. They v/ere 
left to their own understanding. Nor is there a 
higher demonstration who vvas the light, the wis- 



THE BODILY RESURRECTION OF JESUS 8 1 

dom, the joy, of their life, when we see this lapse 
to the level of the disciples' mind the moment that 
he was withdrawn. 

It is sometimes asked, What is the value of the 
testimony of those who said that they had seen 
Jesus after he had left the sepulchre ? The 
sincere but simple-minded men knew nothing of 
the fact that powerful emotions sometimes affect 
the sight in a way as vivid as do outward and 
palpable objects. Only in modern times has this 
psychological truth been established. It was 
unknown of old. It is not fully known even 
now, in all its conditions and limitations. 

But it has been undeniably demonstrated in 
judicial investigations, where a person much 
talked of is mistakenly seen in his familiar walk 
or chair. How often have bereaved affections 
seen the departed so manifestly that one can 
hardly persuade them of an error ! A greatly 
beloved benefactor, because men feel he could 
not possibly die, has, as was supposed, long sur- 
vived the last struggle with life ; and his dear 
image has floated before human vision. 

All this has happened in ten thousand cases. 
Why not be just to the sacred writers, and allow 



82 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



to them the explanation so often accorded to 
others ? Their conduct at least proves how 
overmastering was their love. 

How was it that the bodily resurrection of 
Jesus came to be the prominent and peculiar 
part of the Christian faith. 

No space can here be given to well-known 
historical details. What potent motives urged to 
this belief? Here were condensed all disputes 
about religion. An admission settled every- 
thing. It was the first point to be presented. 
It was preached continually. Nothing so much 
excited curiosity and wonder. It called forth 
passionate rhetoric. The old Church Fathers 
wrote voluminously in its defence. In time, Art, 
with picturesque power, came to its aid. The 
Passion Plays gave it distinctness and perma- 
nence. Poetry hallowed it in verse. The mil- 
lenarian craze taught that armies of saints 
would rise from their graves to fight the battles 
of the Lord. 

This was followed by the madness of the 
Crusades, identifying thoughts of a bodily resur- 
rection with the sepulchre for which all Chris- 
tendom fought. The Protestant Reformation 



THE BODILY RESURRECTION OF JESUS 83 

effected little change in creeds. And after- 
ward, with less rude and warlike souls, what 
tender and holy feelings were gathered around 
that deserted tomb ! 

Still, it must not be forgotten that, in later 
Christian generations, feelings equally tender 
and holy have failed to see in a far-off, uncer- 
tain event the best proof of a future life, and 
have found an anchor sure and steadfast in 
other evidence. The course of a devout Chris- 
tian experience leads to this result. It devel- 
ops tastes and aspirations which welcome and 
confirm the hope of a continued life. It sees 
how inconsiderable are the greatest attainments 
in wisdom and virtue, compared with the possi- 
bilities of our nature. Are all these waste } 
We should not call him a wise builder of a house 
who raised its walls a few inches above its 
foundation, and then left it as the completion of 
his design. 

As we approach the transition that awaits all, 
there may be little reference with many to the 
old Biblical interpretations. It would give birth 
to doubts alien to the then solemn earnestness. 
We fall back upon what we were made to be, — 



84 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



upon convictions and longings which we cannot 
wholly suppress, which grow stronger the more 
we heed them, and are as surely a part of our 
personal equipment as our logic and demonstra- 
tions. And in time a breath from above meets 
us, as Columbus knew, by a fragrant breeze, 
that he was approaching a new world. 



HOW TO MAKE FRIENDS 



HOW TO MAKE FRIENDS. 



We read of beautiful friendships in ancient 
poetry ; but, it may be asked, where do we find 
them now ? A cold individualism has supplanted 
the self-forgetful enthusiasm of earlier days, and 
so friendship is one of the lost arts. 

Is this exactly true ? Who can tell us if the 
wide fame of those old ties was not, in great 
part, because they were so rare ? Certainly, the 
more kindly and disinterested elements of human 
character have, in modern times, a wider devel- 
opment. Probably there are thousands of neigh- 
borhoods which might furnish examples of fer- 
vent, self-sacrificing friendships ; but they could 
not be set off by contrasts once very common. 

Our altered state of society does not require 
the kind of friend greatly needed of old. In 
ruder ages, amid the uncertainties of order, the 
convulsions of empire, the overthrow of dynasties, 
the perils of tyranny, lawlessness, and ruffianism, 
how anxiously men looked out for a helper and 
protector ! Not that there was a selfish feeling 



88 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



at the bottom, — for who can believe that a selfish 
feeling ever begot a pure friendship ? — but a 
sense of common danger brought men closer 
together, and made it more necessary to under- 
stand their mutual needs. The existing differ- 
ence of condition is no proof that they have now 
less heart. It is more a proof of public safety. 

Remark, again, how much modern life is spread 
over a large surface. The morning newspaper 
tells us what is going on in the city, throughout 
the State, throughout the Union, and in some 
degree throughout the world. Life so diffused 
is not concentrated as in past ages. 

As you sail on the Rhine and see the ruins 
of the old castles that cap every mountain peak, 
you think of the baronial lords that once inhab- 
ited them, whose next-door neighbor was distant 
on another frowning eminence, from whom little 
was heard, perhaps, from one month to another. 
They knew not a thing of what was going on in 
all the world besides. 

If you go still farther back in history, you find 
that the circle in which men had sympathy for 
each other was smaller and smaller the farther you 
ascend the stream of time. Each individual 



HOW TO MAKE FRIENDS 



89 



became more isolated. He was terribly hated, if 
he was not liked ; but, if he was loved, it was 
with a concentrated interest, not diffused, as 
now, over a multitude. 

But, after making these allowances, what fol- 
lows ? That human hearts have not now as much 
capacity as formerly for friendship, that we do 
not need a friend to double all our satisfactions, 
to correct our one-sidedness, to show us our fail- 
ings, and to be to us what it was to one who 
said that to this he owed all the success of 
his life ? Everybody knows what the right an- 
swer is. 

The question then comes up. How may we 
obtain that boon and blessing ? And here the 
most frequent mistake is made. Some seem to 
think that they can pick out a friend as they 
would pick out a house or a farm they seek. 
Accordingly, they fix upon a person in the 
position of life with which they can sympathize, 
having the age, the appearance, the manners, the 
culture, the social standing, they fancy; and then 
they say, Be my friend. 

Have you not heard of such attempts ? Have 
they not often been repeated ? And do you not 



90 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



know the uniform result ? They have failed, 
will fail, must fail, ought to fail, because they 
Jiave begun in a wrong way. 

If you had nothing to consult but your tastes 
and character, the plan might work very well. 
The house or the farm you would purchase has 
no will of its own. It all goes with the title- 
deeds. But this is not the case with him whom 
you would choose for a friend. His tastes, 
sympathies, and culture are to be consulted. 
You may fancy him, but he may not fancy you. 
To win his consent, the first thing necessary is to 
deserve it. If he be the wise and noble guide 
you want, how quickly he will be repulsed if you 
are unlike him ! The way, then, to get a friend is 
to look into your own heart, and enthrone there 
the qualities which will draw him as surely as 
the magnet draws the steel. 

You have heard people say, Such a one gets 
along very well, because he has pushing friends ; 
but I never had such to stand by me and help 
me. And perhaps you have rightly felt like 
replying, You aever will have them, never can 
have them, because you look to the advantage 
they may give you. You have not learned the 



HOW TO MAKE FRIENDS 9 1 

very alphabet of friendship, which is to acquire, 
first of all, the qualities that will insure it. 

Not more readily do we go to the rose, wher- 
ever blooming, to inhale its sweetness, than the 
flower of our nature, seen in any by-corner of 
hfe, will attract our steps and our heart. Be 
disinterested, and generous souls will be around 
you. Be kindly and obliging, and you will be in 
touch with all kindred dispositions. Cherish a 
warm and effusive heart, and like hearts will 
rejoice to bask in your rays. 

It is related that in a dingy neighborhood in 
London lived one, not the possessor of wealth 
nor a branch of an eminent pedigree, — the two 
things so much thought of in that city, — before 
whose door were seen the carriages and livery 
of high, aristocratic families. Some outside 
observer asked : What is the secret that attracts 
them there? They represent a circle I would 
give anything to enter, but I have tried in vain 
to be a member of it. 

The only secret was character. She who lived 
there had the magnetism of a wise and noble 
life, with a charm of conversation and a sweet 
soul that beamed out from her eye and her 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



manners. While some could not gain admission 
to her company, there were others \vho were 
happy to belong to her retinue. Doors, bolts, 
and bars could not more effectually divide the 
two classes. 

The case shows that something more is needed 
than the mere possession of amiable qualities. 
These must be apparent. It is of little worth 
that the pebble in your garden encloses a dia- 
mond, if no one knows it is there. A striking 
Biblical proverb teaches that he who would 
have and keep friends ''must show himself 
friendly." The proofs of an unselfish and loving 
heart are irresistible. It was unjustly said that 
every Englishman is not only an islander, but is 
himself an island. If not so widely applicable, 
this is true of many not English. Through a 
reluctance to give others an inspection of them- 
selves, through a habit of reticence and conceal- 
ment, perhaps through a chronic bashfulness 
and timidity, they live shut up. They are like 
burrs that have prickly points you would not 
clasp. They are like hard shells that contain a 
savory meat, if you can get at it. 

We sometimes hear it said of a third person 



HOW TO MAKE FRIENDS 93 

that you must be long acquainted with him in 
order to know his value. This means that you 
must break through the ice before you can find 
the refreshing water. In the case of others you 
drink at the open fountain. It is the frank 
character that attracts. In looking back over 
one's life, we see how many have prospered 
chiefly through this single trait. Far more than 
on learning, more than on wit more than on elo- 
quence, more than on wealth or elevated social 
position, successes have been showered on hearts 
that are open as the day, and admit the warm 
sunlight to shine within and around. What is 
the secret of this transparency, if it be not a 
habit of self-forgetfulness and cordial good will 
to all.^ 

Who has not "often observed what enduring 
friendships spring from ability to see something 
noble in each other's hearts ? Of course, there 
have been temporary alliances, partnerships, 
confederacies, dominated and for a while com- 
pacted by selfish motives. But they never can 
be durable. There is somewhere a centrifugal 
force, and erelong they fly asunder. And, when 
parted, there is no hate like that of those who 



94 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



feel that they have been deceived. Permanence 
belongs only to friendships founded on the higher 
qualities of our nature ; and, such ties enduring 
through a long life, surviving changes of fortune, 
sickness, and the infirmities of years, do they 
give hint of ceasing with the mortal breath ? 

How suddenly friendship may spring up when 
we do get a quick and deep insight into hearts 1 
Soldiers in the havoc of battle, the shipwrecked 
clinging on a raft at sea, some unexpected and 
decisive crisis in a man's life, when a word, a 
look, a gesture, may disclose the inmost depths 
of the soul, and show as if by a lightning-flash 
something noble and heroic, — such moments 
have done the work of years, and have bound 
together hearts that have had this instantaneous 
communion. It is character that is clasped. 

This is true in another case of equal interest, 
where friendships have grown up gradually, after 
much painstaking to understand each other's 
hearts. Such ties come not suddenly, as in the 
former way, but by the careful scrutiny of years. 
Intimacy with a few persons is far more favor- 
able to this result than mingling in a wide social 
circle. One might suppose that in a large city, 



HOW TO MAKE FRIENDS 



95 



where are daily met thousands of people of great 
variety of taste and culture, a friend might be 
found more easily than in a small rural neigh- 
borhood, where perhaps not a half-dozen per- 
sons are fully acquainted with each other. 

But the fact is not so. In a large general 
society the talk is apt to be superficial and repe- 
titious, each one adapting himself to a conven- 
tional type and reiterating commonplace things. 
The deepest, strongest, most enduring friend- 
ships have usually grov/n up in small circles that 
invited close mutual study and careful mutual 
adaptation. Here also it is character that is 
clasped. 

Why do we so value our bosom friends, why 
look so deeply into their souls, why this admira- 
tion for what is true, disinterested, and noble, 
why the fact that all ties that are enduring must 
be based on elevated character ? Is there 
no suggestion in all this ? Are not our friend- 
ships like stepping-stones across the current of 
life ? May they not be finally like wings by 
which we may soar ? 



SOME OF THE LAWS OF 
MEMORY 



SOME OF THE LAWS OF MEMORY. 



Though seldom named, they are peculiarly 
striking, and reveal a special and studied inten- 
tion for human happiness. If we could see our 
faculty of memory, could handle and examine it 
as we would a machine, we might call it the 
most wonderful invention in the world. For 
what are springs and wheels of steel and brass, 
compared with the finer contrivances of percep- 
tion, discrimination, retentiveness, running on, 
perhaps, for a hundred years, without any fric- 
tion and without any thought from us ? The 
outer engine you must scour and lubricate : the 
inner engine takes care of itself. 

One of the surprising facts of this faculty is 
the vastness of its collections. If its impres- 
sions may be compared to photographic plates, 
how many of them lie in a space invisible to your 
eye ! In the case of one well informed in his- 
tory, what a multitude of events and dates, — 
conspiracies, wars, revolutions, battles, victories, 
defeats, names of kings, generals, orators, states- 



LoFCi 



lOO 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



men, diplomatists, accounts of inventions, discov- 
eries, arts, improvements, all packed away where 
no one can see them, and yet all so orderly ar- 
ranged that they can be taken up merely by a 
thought ! 

It is indeed a miracle. But you need not go 
to the historian to see it. You may find it in 
your own mind. How many thousand facts have 
you there collected, — pictures of your childhood 
and youth, your pleasures, your hopes, your fears, 
your loves, your hates ; and then, in maturer 
years, your plans, your toils, your bargains, your 
journeys, your disappointments, your successes, 
the incidents that have filled every year and every 
day of your life ! 

Some perhaps are only dimly seen ; but what a 
multitude would start into bold relief, were they 
all written out ! And they are all engraved, dis- 
tinct, enduring, ineffaceable, in the mysterious 
scripts within. Full of wonders does all nature 
seem in its designs, forces, and phenomena ; but 
we carry the greatest wonder in ourselves. 

It is another marvellous fact that we remember 
our pleasures more vividly than our physical 
pains. We see this in our recollections of child- 



SOME OF THE LAWS OF MEMORY 101 



hood. What a happy period to look back upon 1 
Yet we had many sufferings which seemed great 
at the time. We fell out of our chair, we 
tumbled down in our walk, we had the tooth- 
ache, we cut our finger, we were laid up in sick- 
ness, we were forbidden to join in favorite plays. 
Hardly a week passed in which we did not cry as 
if our little hearts would break. 

Do we remember one of those pains now? 
You recall the fact that you did have them ; but 
the sensation is blotted out forever, and by no 
effort of imagination can you bring it back. But 
are your childhood's pleasures extinguished ? 
Do you not have something more than the bare 
recollection that you were then happy ? The 
sensation itself of your early joys, — will it not 
come again ? 

We all know the answer. The places where 
we played, the companionship of loving mates, 
the sight of the room in which we slept when a 
child, the doll which was petted, the hobby- 
horse which was straddled, the lawn where we 
looked up to the stars, the garden where we 
gathered flowers, — have not all these a story to 
tell of something imperishably sweet ? 



102 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



What is true of our childhood is true of all 
our life. Our memory is like a sieve, which lets 
all our wretched moments pass through and 
away, while other moments it keeps and holds 
fast. It would have been a terrible infliction, had 
the fact been the other way. Who could endure 
existence if every twinge of anguish lived as 
sharp as in its first experience ? What an in- 
supportable load would have accumulated in a 
few years ! No one in old age could have en- 
dured it. It w^ould crush him. How obvious 
here the work of a divine intention ! 

There is a still more curious fact relating to 
this subject. If in our rememberance of a past 
trial there be connected with it some luminous 
point, something which now explains it, lifts it 
up, gives it a cheerful hue, how instinctively the 
memory seizes hold of that point, dwells upon it, 
and makes the most of it ! In time it may 
become the only thing you remember at all. 
Here is a common and very suggestive fact. 
Let us look at its verification. 

A dozen years ago you met with a disappoint- 
ment, w^hich at first seemed without remedy. In 
the end, however, it turned out to your advan- 



SOME OF THE LAWS OF MEMORY IO3 

tage. It is the pleasure of that turn which lives 
fresh in your recollection. How often you men- 
tally go back to it, and retouch it with new colors 
if it begins to fade ! 

Something once happened to you and your 
family which then seemed insupportable. But 
there was an odd circumstance that attended it. 
It afterwards struck you with surprise. Perhaps 
by the alternate play of grief and laughter, it now 
moves you with joy, in spite of all its first gloom. 
It is that circumstance which will live forever 
in your recollection. You recall it a thousand 
times. You tell it to your friends. The former 
tears of sorrow now give place to tears of mirth. 
What an electric power has been given to mem- 
ory to single out from the past gloom a ray of 
light and joy ! Here, again, how obvious is the 
kind intention ! 

Do impressions made upon the memory ever 
become entirely obliterated? Persons recovered 
from drowning have said that they saw all the 
events of their lives flash before them in the last 
moment of consciousness. This is an indefinite 
statement, and much cannot have been included 
in a sudden alarm. There are facts which imply 



I04 OCTOBER LEAVES 

a far more deliberate and comprehensive and 
indelible survey of the past. On revisiting the 
scenes of former days, on meeting a friend from 
whom we have been separated, perhaps, for half 
a century, on reperusing a book not read for 
many years, memory draws out, with full self- 
possession, the negative of photographic plates, 
distinct as at first. Is this the book of remem- 
brance one day to be opened ? 

And here comes another law of memory, more 
serious than any yet noticed. The pleasure 
from one wrong act is likely to be very short, if 
there be really any pleasure in it at all. But the 
rebuking memory may be felt you know not how 
long nor how many years hence. 

Even here is seen the crowning proof of the 
supreme goodness. Sins have their sting taken 
out of them by the transforming power of for- 
giveness. He to whom much is forgiven loveth 
much. The earthly parental relation and some of 
the most affecting parables explain what is con- 
firmed by wide human experience. 

Where is the theology that has here been true ? 
Theology has dealt more with the terrors of the 
law. To frighten anxious souls, it has had 



SOME OF THE LAWS OF MEMORY IO5 

enough to say about the safety of the one apos- 
tohc Church, about the needed absolution of the 
priest, about the grandeur of an ancient and 
stately hierarchy, about imputation and substi- 
tution, and blood that cleanses guilt, and election 
to salvation made by a party vote. These are 
outside plasters, which do not touch the secret 
springs of action nor remove the hidden sources 
of wrong-doing. 

Their manifest inefficacy is one of the causes 
of the general decline of religion, — not as an 
outward institution, but as an inward power. It 
is to the credit of humanity if it feels that the 
one thing needful is a sincere and persevering 
resolve to a life right in that eye which sees 
through the human soul. No doubt there are 
countless subtle delusions encompassing this 
subject ; but this does not prove that there is no 
real and solid thing of this kind, lifting man to a 
higher plane, putting him in a new relation to 
the Author of his being, and enthroning his love 
for God and God^s love for him. 



HUMAN LOVE FOR GOD 



HUMAN LOVE FOR GOD. 



It may be thought that there is an impassable 
distance between what is implied in the last word 
of this title and what is implied in its first word. 
Hardly do we at first climb up to any clear idea 
of God. How, then, can we at once reach him 
by our love ? 

It is not easy to see how we can love one 
whose existence is not put beyond all doubt, of 
whose personality we only dimly conceive, with 
whom we have no visible communication except 
through intermediate agencies, and whose infinite 
grandeur, if really felt, must annihilate us. 

Even when these and other conditions are met, 
we do not readily yield our affections to one who 
imperatively says, Thou shalt love me." Love 
follows some other law than that of authority. 

There may be those who say it is impossible 
for man to love God. A larger number may 
blame themselves for their coldness of heart. It 
may not be useless to try to show what love for 



no 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



God really means, and how it is within the 
sphere of our capabiHties and duty. 

When we talk about the distance between God 
and man, there may be a survival of the childish 
conception that God is a venerable and omnipo- 
tent Ruler, seated on a far-off throne, surrounded 
by myriads of angels, and superintending this 
wonderful universe. 

Perhaps there may be shadows from an earlier 
perspective. During long ages it has been be- 
lieved that nature is something not yet subdued 
to God's dominion, that it is at war with him, 
that it is the realm of demons sending to us our 
disappointments and sufferings. Science has 
banished the evil spirits ; but, if we have inherited 
the influence of this ancient superstition, we may 
account for the way in which many still speak of 
nature. Anything that is according to nature is 
at once pushed aside, as unworthy of further 
thought. It makes no appeal to our wonder and 
reverence. A wall is built up between nature 
and God. 

Here comes the supposed distance. Modern 
thought rejects this remoteness. God is immi- 
nent in nature. He moves the planets in their 



HUMAN LOVE FOR GOD 



III 



orbits, and paints the tints of the humblest 
flower. Thus he is omnipresent. Whither 
shall I go from thy spirit ? Whither shall I flee 
from thy presence ? " This is the religion of 
our era, leading us out of the misconceptions of 
the past, and bringing us nearer to Him in 
whom we live and move and have our being.'' 
That the ancient writers here quoted had fore- 
gleams of the grandest spiritual truth is a better 
proof of their divine insight than all the argu- 
ments of Biblical critics. The early religions 
could not have been altogether ridiculous and 
debasing things if they were here and there 
illuminated by such lofty and prophetic minds. 

Are perplexities about God's personality any 
greater than perplexities about our own person- 
ality ? Who has ever seen his own soul ? If we 
ask in vain, What is its form ? the inquiry is alsa 
fruitless. Or what is its essential quality ? 

Who has even seen his dearest friend ? It is 
only his outward person that is visible. His 
spirit is as much a mystery as is the spirit of 
God. Our friend's soul acts through his kind 
deeds and his loving and noble life. And is 
not God seen by his works, by every adjustment 



112 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



for our good, by every happy hour ve enjoy, 
even by the evils we meet, designed as parts of 
a needed discipHne ? 

But the darkness which clouds the personality 
of our dearest friend is not sufficient to lead us 
to think we can never love him, or to prevent 
our grateful thought upon the tokens of his care 
and affection. Why should it be sufficient in the 
case of God ? 

Here is not an exceptional fact. In all out- 
ward objects there is something too deep for us 
to fathom. As to matter itself, we can see only 
as far as it affects our senses. What is it in 
itself, do we know ? So with light, electricity, 
life, body receiving action from mind, planets 
distant myriads of miles wheeled in their orbits, 
a flower emitting its fragrance, and countless 
other cases, we observe only effects, but not the 
distinctive agency itself. We are perpetually 
put to school to teach us the limits of our knowl- 
edge. But do those limits lead us to deny the 
existence of something back of the phenomena ? 

If an undevout astronomer is mad," what 
less can be said of an undevout geologist, an 
undevout botanist, an undevout historian of the 



HUMAN LOVE FOR GOD II5 

progress of our race through cycles of a thousand 
years ? Study in any one hne of investigation 
brings us nearer to the order, wisdom, and 
benignity of God ; and doubt and denial flourish 
best where there has been no study at all. 

Not that profound study is the only pathway 
to faith. The common appearances of the 
world are surely, if with less emphasis, here a 
guide. The inward and the outward are co- 
ordinated in one symphony, evincing a unity of 
intention between God in nature and God in a 
healthy human soul. 

Convictions which are the fruit of a pure and 
thoughtful life show that there is something in 
us which responds to God, and something in 
God which responds to us. It is because he lives 
in us, and we live in him. In the possible 
growth of likeness we may become one, — a bold 
figure of speech, which we should not dare to use 
without leave. Even in souls who, as has been 
said, would be crushed by the grandeur of God, 
there are intimations of something infinite. 
How unmeaning to them the thought of a remote 
and distant God ! 

If any one be troubled by the command to love 



114 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



God, it may be well to try to form some just 
idea of the mode in which it was given. 

No one supposes that distinct words were 
xittered. God has not linguistic organs. He 
has no need of any of man's thousand dialects. 
The phrases God said " and " The Lord spake 
these words '' were used by those who believed 
that God impressed upon their mind the things 
reported. But they were free to utter them in 
their own way. " The spirit of the prophet was 
subject to the prophet/' not he to it. A duty he 
set forth by the words Thou shalt " ; a restraint, 
by the words Thou shalt not." It does not fol- 
low that this was the diction which God himself 
used. The diction was according to the custom 
of that age. 

It was laid aside in advanced stages of 
culture. Who can imagine Jesus as saying, 
^'Thou shalt be pure in heart," ^' Thou shalt be 
meek and merciful " } He never taught in that 
style. But, looking to the commandment which 
first appeared as early as the Book of Deuteron- 
omy, it is, indeed, a wonderful fact that some even 
then subordinated all ceremonies, rites, sacri- 
ficial gifts, and creeds to the one great command- 



HUMAN LOVE FOR GOD II5 

ment. It required a long time to make this 
doctrine acceptable to many, even after its in- 
dorsement by him who said there is none 
greater than this.'' The doctrine is one thing, 
its form of statement in Deuteronomy is another 
thing ; and the form partook of the rudeness of 
an early people. 

Not only the words of the commandment, but 
their real meaning, should be noted. The word 
love " is a translation from a Hebrew term which 
places the stress on other things than mere affec- 
tions. It includes reverence, aspiration, obedi- 
ence, a steadfast looking to God, a humble and 
sincere breathing for him. This last appears to 
be the root idea. All these various shades of 
meaning were covered by the word "love." 

A like fact is found in our language. We say 
that we should love our child, should love a 
flower, should love our country, should love a 
wise and beneficent ruler. Because we include 
ail these in one term, it does not follow that 
there must be no discrimination. Love is grad- 
uated according to the object. Who can sup- 
pose that we are required to love God with the 
vivacity and tenderness felt for our closest 



ii6 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



friend? The affection the Bible enjoins is an 
habitual reverence, wanting perhaps, as some 
may think, in occasional fervor, but really more 
enduring, more obedient to reason, and with 
more control over the life. 

There is also something noteworthy in the 
words ^'with all thy heart and mind and 
strength." They suggest that there was of old 
a division of our capacities, not unlike what we 
make to-day, when we speak of our affections, our 
reason, and our will. It was a sensible remark 
of the renowned Church Father, Saint Augustine, 
who said that true religion has a claim upon our 
whole nature, not on our love alone, but upon 
our understanding and our force of character. 
Nothing can be more true. And it follows that 
to bring the chief stress to bear on our emotions 
is to obey only a part of our duty, and what all 
history proves is the easiest part. 

Some who may regard all this explanation as 
unneeded may turn with more interest to another 
question. Taking the word " love " in its broad, 
Scriptural sense, why does God ask for it ? Not 
for his glory, but to enrich and ennoble our 
nature. 



HUMAN LOVE FOR GOD 



117 



Yet the former statement is often supposed to 
be the pivot on which our whole duty turns. 
What a low mental level it implies, if we think 
that our adoration, thanksgiving, and praise 
have for their chief object to exalt God ! Even 
the sainted Dr. Watts, in a hymn long a favorite 
in the churches, thus sings : — 

" We'll crowd thy gates with thankful songs, 
High as the heavens our voices raise ; 
And earth with her ten thousand tongues 
Shall fill thy courts with sounding praise." 

The picture is drawn from the homage which 
subjects pay to their monarch. It suggests the 
key-note to much of our devotional poetry, our 
prayers and litanies. What can the Ruler of the 
universe think of our praise } One act of kind- 
ness, from a pure and merciful motive, to the 
humblest suffering fellow-being, — is it not a 
thousand-fold better ? Something greater than 
the temple is here," said one who had no refer- 
ence in these words to himself, as the revised 
version correctly suggests, but alluded, it may be, 
to compassion for those in need, — some thiiig^ 
not some 07te. 

It is not promotive of a pure love for God that 



ii8 



OCTOBER LEAVES 



SO large a share, not merely of our gushing 
praises, but of our human schemes and ambi- 
tions, has been mingled with it. It is colored by 
this mixture. The old Roman power early took 
charge of the way to evince love for God. It 
sought to regain a lost political domination. The 
child of that Church has a like aim for official 
authority and show, and is often a stepping-stone 
to the parent. There is not a sect wdthout its 
interposed ceremony and shibboleth. It loves 
these the best. Their air and narrowness cling 
to it. An adept in interpreting pretensions could 
tell to what denomination belongs every man he 
meets. Jesus would not see anywhere a party 
with which he would feel at home. Its atmos- 
phere would be stifling. How he loved to wel- 
come in outsiders a simple faith found not in 
all Israel ! " 

Perhaps to-day there may be the purest rever- 
ence for God with some who make no profes- 
sions, and are not banded together for the dif- 
fusion of anything where their own peculiar ism 
is prominent. We call it a calamity that the 
multitude of the unchurched is so large. Are 
w^e sure that such have not done more for true 



HUMAN LOVE FOR GOD II9 

religion than the carnal or verbal weapons of 
partisans ? Some of the best reforms in religion, 
— from whose hands have they come ? 

To what may the habit of sincere and growing 
reverence for God be the beginning, as we ad- 
vance in experience here and hereafter ? Who 
can set bounds to its increase ? What a sense of 
peace, safety, and joy may it impart! What an 
inspiration to greatness of heart and to moral 
grandeur of life ! Without it man is only an 
infinitesimal fraction. God wishes his creature 
to be completed. In the vision of God, man finds 
his origin, his duty, his pathway of progress, his 
destiny, and the assured continuity of existence. 
What are we likely to get in exchange for all 
this ? 



ft 

n 




I 



i 



mi' 



5^ 



3*^ 




LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



0 040 431 243 1 



